France-Mexico World Cup: Mexico Hands France Their Ticket Back Home

I had promised myself to write only about Brazil during this World Cup. I didn't want to receive angry comments from other fans for criticizing their countries, but after what I just saw between Mexico and France, I just couldn't contain myself.

So let's get to it—and feel free to send your thoughts and comments.

Let me start by saying that there's no France National Football TEAM. What was on the field today was a group of incredibly talented players who can't be called a "team." In them, there is no collective organization, no collective creativity, and no teamwork whatsoever.

The players do have some extent of responsibility on the disastrous performance of Les Bleus, but if Marie Antoinette was alive, Monsieur Raymond Domenech would leave the stadium tonight and go straight to the guillotine. What a joke he is. He left Henry on the bench when the team—I mean the guys in blue—needed some spark and someone besides Ribery to cause problems for the Mexican defense.

Everybody complained about Dunga's not taking Ronaldinho to the World Cup, and the Brazilian manager stood his ground and said, “He's not part of my plans.” Now, if Domenech knew he was going to leave Henry on the bench when the boys in blue most needed quality up front, why bring him at all? What a douche!!! “Off with his head!” yells the crazy queen.

Another lesson we can learn from this match is this: Don't mess with the Irish. Revenge couldn't taste sweeter for the millions of Irish fans who cursed up to Henry's fourth generation of ancestors after that "hand of God goal" in the final qualifying match. To see Mr. Handy-Henry sitting on the bench while his country gets schooled in football and gets scored on by a 22-year-old in a dubious offside situation made every pint in Dublin taste a lot better.

Now with the greatness of tonight's match: Mexico.

I've been living in the United States for four years now, and every time I talk to a Mexican fan, he whines about referees being unfair, the rest of the world hating on Mexican football, on how European defenders hunt down Mexican talents, blah, blah. Excuses, excuses, excuses...

What Mexico showed tonight on the pitch was an evolution—an evolution not only talent-wise but a psychological as well. No more feeling like victims, no more crying to referees or allowing themselves to be pushed around by European teams.

Javier Aguirre taught the Mexican team how to be mature and how to play football with grace and efficiency. Gio dos Santos is no more a shadow of Ronaldinho, Javi Hernandez is not a promise, and Cuauhtemoc Blanco is not thug anymore. The result of those chances is what we saw tonight: top class football.

It's still too early in the competition, but dare I say that if Mexico can maintain this consistency, this might be the World Cup in which they will go farther than ever before. I wouldn't say at this point that they could fight for the title, but I wouldn't be surprised if they claimed one of the four spots in the semifinal.

Fiesta tonight para mis hermanos Mexicanos. Tequila!!!